


Sicilian Man Attempts To Obliterate Rockstar

by mankocherry



Category: Metallica, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Jealousy, i just wanted to tbh, i love both of them oml you cant even imagine, idk why i did this, tag team me please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mankocherry/pseuds/mankocherry
Summary: James always gets shit at live shows.
Relationships: Risotto Nero/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Sicilian Man Attempts To Obliterate Rockstar

The year is 1993. The Nowhere Else  To Roam tour was taking off in celebration of Metallica’s all-time high in their careers . T wo years prior , their highly successful and “commercial-sounding" self-titled album was released to metal hungry fanatics awaiting outside record stores on that fateful early August morning .

It came as no surprise to you that Risotto adored the quartet – he had multiple CDs, tapes, and vinyl of their music, some being European bootlegs that came as old as the band itself. In various occasions - and  much to Prosciutto’s displeasure \- he’d play the hits and grumble along the lyrics, sometimes picking up his guitar and playing along. You could’ve sworn he was trying to grow his hair out even longer at some point during your relationship, a little attempt to resemble the  frontman himself, but you’d be lying if you didn’t think he looked stunning as well as sexy. 

It was pleasant, although rare, to see him so content with something of his own interests, away from the bloodshed of the mafia. Because of this, you had no hesitation when he gifted you a ticket to see his admired idols in his company. 

The date had come. Luckily enough, both you and Risotto got to the barricades that separated you and the long-haired gods fairly quickly, providing you with a view that had your heart racing. Risotto kept his stance behind you, keeping you safe with his hands on your hips and  your  waist.

The show – as thrilling as it had been – was gradually reaching its end, with only two songs left before the encore. Both you, your lover, and the whole crowd were drenching in sweat and body heat, subconsciously grinding against each other thought the whole  exhilarating setlist. 

As Metallica began blasting  Seek and Destroy ,  the crowd’s energy was reignited during the final stages of the show. After some banter with his mates onstage, Hetfield climbed down from his metaphorical throne, surrounded by intimidating security guards, to meet the rabid thrashers who clawed their way towards the man himself. 

You found yourself  being squished between the barricade and your boyfriend’s chest due to the force of the crowd behind you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t complain. Not after you saw James strutting over to your general area, high-fiving the metalheads that were brave enough to stick their arms out, and giving them a chance to chant the famous line of the song.

“Let’s get some chicks up in here, huh?” He boasted with that macho image of his. Hetfield sang his line before cueing you in by holding the microphone to your gapping mouth. He had a wicked grin on his face as he gazed at you, making Risotto’s blood begin to tingle and his brow begin to twitch.

“Seek and destroy!”  You shouted in that girlish manner that was foreign to the testosterone filled arenas and venues the band often performed at. 

This foreignism was not loathed by the rhythm guitarist – no, in fact, he was very much into it. It wasn’t a secret that Metallica were quite popular with the female part of their fandom; if the band’s manager went into a venture - requested by the band – in search for females willing to (literally) get their hair wet, he’d most likely get compliant participants running to the showers ready for a quartet full of adrenaline and sweat. 

“Man...” the Downey man wooed, “Wouldn’t that have looked good down her throat?”

While you took the comment with a blush, your boyfriend refused to let the  rockstar’s lewd remark vaporize into thin air. Risotto brushed past so he  was now in front of you, earning him a confused look.

Before Hetfield could return to the stage to join his bandmates, a fist found its way to the vocalist’s face, making him stumble back and be caught by security’s arms. Risotto, the culprit of the action, began climbing through the barricade in an attempt to manhandle an apology out of the blue-eyed Californian, ignoring your protests and attempts to pull him back to your side. You figured why he’d do such a thing, and cursed your partner’s possessiveness over you. 

“Risotto! It wasn’t a big deal!! Stop!” Your cries were muffled by the roaring of the crowd and the security guards, who were already dragging the crimson eyed hunk away into the exit of the venue. You watched, upset that he had taken such  unnecessary measures to claim you as his.

Your gaze was averted to the  frontman just inches in front of you, struggling to steady himself while he lightly rubbed his soon-to-be bruised cheek. When his eyes were focused on you again, you apologized in behalf of your reckless boyfriend with sincere remorse in your eyes and words. 

The Mighty Het processed your words for a moment before leaning into you and whispering (even under all that commotion), with that cheeky grin of his on his lips. 

“Would you mind getting your hair wet after the show?”


End file.
